


Top Prize

by jadztone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little bit of angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, because with Draco there is always angst, naughty song lyrics, song battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 14:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadztone/pseuds/jadztone
Summary: George has installed an upright piano in the joke shop, so that customers can make up songs and win prizes.  He encourages Draco to be the first to break it in.  With Neville watching, he can't help the smutty thoughts that enter his head and come out of his mouth as lyrics.





	Top Prize

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this came after looking at yet another of Tom Felton’s many, many serenades on instagram. He’s constantly playing his guitar or shanghaiing a public piano and making up lyrics on the fly. It made me think of how Draco wrote a song at Hogwarts. I imagined a scene where Draco flirtatiously improvises a few lines of song for Neville. Of course the lyrics immediately became very naughty. It was meant to be just a drabble, but I ended up doing a bit more world building than intended. I blame the Weasleys. Then later there was some angst. I blame Draco for that. He does it to me every time.

When Draco entered the Weasley joke shop, his senses were immediately bombarded by  a cacophony of sound, colors, and odors.  Somehow it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was certainly dazzling.  Draco was always impressed by how the shop was a resounding success, considering it had been started by a couple of 18 year old dropouts in a country on the brink of war.  Pansy said that they should have been Slytherins.  She also teased Draco for how often he went into the shop.  She was convinced he had a crush on George Weasley.  He _did_ have a crush on him, but only in the way that everyone did.  

Pansy was wrong about why he went into the shop.  He didn’t go so he could see George.  He went in because there were times when he was reminded of something in his past, and it would take hold of him until he felt suffocated by grief and guilt.  The only thing that would work to make him feel centered again was to come into Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.  The shop represented the complete opposite of what he was feeling in every way.  It helped bring him back to the present, restored balance.

He confessed this to Arthur one time, and then immediately felt bad when the older man’s face crumpled and it seemed like he might cry.  Draco made him promise not to tell anyone.  The last thing he wanted was for George to give him sympathetic looks when he came in.  Not that he would...more like tell a raunchy joke.  But it would be a deliberate attempt to cheer him up, and wouldn’t be the same.  It needed to happen organically.  

The other thing Pansy got wrong was the object of Draco’s affections.  Much as he liked George, there was someone else that made his breath hitch whenever he saw him.  And Draco’s breathing was very unsteady at the moment.  Standing next to George over by the till was Neville Longbottom.  

Neville also came to the shop frequently, but for very different reasons.  His greenhouse supplied an herb that was a key ingredient in the puking pastilles.  Whenever Draco encountered him, whatever restored balance he’d been feeling after coming into the shop was immediately knocked back out of whack.  Draco had it bad for Neville.  It started the moment he saw Neville cut off Nagini’s head, and has only grown in strength in the intervening years.  

Draco’s steps faltered when George and Neville glanced over at him. Nodding politely, he pivoted to the right and headed over to the love potions.  It was ostensibly his reason for being here.  He was getting a bottle for Pansy as a gag gift.  She was suffering from her own unrequited crush on Luna Lovegood.  Of course, now he was hesitant to take the bottle up to the till.  They would obviously think he was buying it for his own purposes, and he’d be quizzed about who he was attempting to snare.  His eyes skated over other possibilities, and finally settled on a pygmy puff.  He carried the purple squeaking creature up to the till.  George turned to him with a mischievous grin. “Hello, Malfoy.  Excellent choice.  Is it for you, or a gift?”

Draco blinked, realizing in that moment that he couldn’t give it to Pansy.  She was allergic to them.  “Um...me.  I’ve uh...been feeling like the flat is too quiet.”  That was depressingly true enough.

George’s grin widened, and Neville gave him a curious look.  “Then you won’t want it gift wrapped.  Shame.”

Draco’s eyes widened.  “You...you _gift wrap_ them?”

George laughed.  “They actually enjoy it.  It’s like a paper hug to them.”

Draco chuckled and dug out some galleons, handing them over.  George gave him some sickles in return, and then leaned over, his elbows on the counter.  “So, have you seen our latest addition to the shop?”  He nodded over to the left.  Draco turned and saw an upright piano.  He wondered how George had found room to set it up in the overcrowded shop.  “I thought it would be fun to have contests.  Whoever comes up with the funniest little ditty wins a prize.”  Draco smiled politely. It was a good idea, he supposed.  George’s smile sharpened, and he gazed at Draco intently.  “If I recall, you’re pretty good at coming up with clever song lyrics.”

Draco was unable to prevent the flush of pink on his cheeks.  George of course was talking about the song taunting Ron’s turn as goalkeeper for the Gryffindor quidditch team.  Years ago, he might have thought there was malicious intent in George bringing up Draco’s bad behavior.  But fortunately, they’d forgiven Draco.  Much as he’d loathed being assigned to work for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Division as punishment for his crimes as a death eater, it had eventually led to Arthur and then the rest of the Weasleys thawing towards him.  

Draco cleared his throat.  “Let me guess, you want me to take a crack at it?”

George beamed.  “Well, we just got it in today.  Someone needs to break it in.”

Draco swallowed.  On the one hand, he wanted to give in to George, because he was really quite charming.  On the other hand, Neville was right there and would be a witness to it.  Draco closed his eyes.  He could do this.  Just because he’d seen the error of his ways, didn’t mean he’d become completely toothless.  He could compose something clever for George.  For the shop that had given him some much needed levity.  He went over to the piano and sat down.  George’s face was full of glee.  Neville...his eyes were narrowed with interest.  

Draco decided at that moment whatever he sang would be about Neville.  He ran some possibilities through his head, as his hands mechanically sought the keys and began to play a jaunty little tune that would be the backdrop to whatever words he composed.  An idea came to him as he regarded Neville out of the corner of his eyes, and it was an absolutely _wicked_ one.  Dare he say it aloud?  Well, why not?  If Neville wasn’t receptive, he could play it off as a joke.  

Clearing his throat, he mused a bit longer until the words finally came together in an acceptable rhyme.  

“Long _bottom_ , Long _bottom_ so full of power.  

Long _bottom_ , Long _bottom_ , oh what a name!

Alas, if I ever want to get with him,

I’d have to be at the _top_ of my game.”  

He ended with a flourish, feeling like his stomach was doing flips.  He could hear George roaring with laughter and he dared a peek over at them.  George was doubled over.  Neville’s eyes had widened, and his complexion was turning red.

George slapped Neville on the shoulder.  “Alright, mate!  It’s your turn.  Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Neville’s eyes widened even more.  “What?  I don’t play piano!”

“You have to retaliate!  It’s the whole point.  Someone has to win in order to get the prize. Look, I’ll play the piano.  You just have to come up with the lyrics.”  

George steered him closer to the piano, and Draco clumsily vacated the bench.  Neville’s eyes were back to being narrowed, looking at Draco in what could be speculation or irritation, he couldn’t be sure.  George flopped down on the bench and began playing a happy little melody.  Neville sat next to him, his eyes cast to the ground as he brainstormed.  A tiny little smile began to form, and Draco felt his heart constrict over how adorable he looked.  His breath caught when Neville’s eyes flew to his, now alight with an intensity that triggered goosebumps over every bit of his flesh.

“Draco, dear Draco.  It’s hard to believe,

that you’d be a top...you’re much too bossy.

Draco, dear Draco.  You’ve got it a bit wrong.  

I am _no_ bottom, but I’m definitely... _long_.”

Neville winked as he said that last bit, and Draco felt his legs turn to jelly.  George’s fingers faltered over the keys and then stopped altogether as he tipped his head back to laugh in delight.  He leapt to his feet.  “Bloody hell, Neville, I didn’t think you had it in you.  I know just the prize for you.”  George ducked behind the curtain that separated the adult section of the shop.  Neville was looking at Draco with an expression that seemed almost predatory, and Draco felt very much like prey caught in his sultry gaze.  It was ironic.  All this time Draco had attempted to engage Neville by being polite and using benign humour, and it had taken something blatantly sexual to catch his interest.  

George burst back from behind the curtain and tossed something in Neville’s direction.  Neville caught it and examined the small bottle.  He grimaced in embarrassment as he read the label.  “Smooth as Selkie water-based lubricant. Okaaayy...so what can I expect to happen if I use it?  This is a joke shop after all.”

George grinned.  “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.  But I can guarantee that it will give you both a laugh and it definitely _won’t_ kill the mood.”

Neville blinked.  “Us both?”  His gaze flicked to Draco for a moment, then he ducked his head, his earlier bravado clearly having left him.  George rolled his eyes and then purposefully strode over to a group of teenagers and began telling them a story about him and Fred 3rd year and something about nargles.

Draco licked his lips.  “Speaking of nargles...how are things with you and Luna Lovegood?”

Neville gave him a bemused look.  “She’s fine.  But we’re not together, if that’s what you’re thinking.  Haven’t been in a long time.”

Draco looked at the floor.  “Oh.  Well.  Pansy will be happy to hear that.  Unless Luna’s involved with someone else, now?”

Neville folded his arms.  “She’s not involved with anyone.  And she rather likes Pansy, despite my warnings.”

Draco, unable to meet Neville’s gaze, stared at a display of trick floo powder.  “That’s great.  I’ll let Pansy know.”

“Great,” said Neville with false cheer.  “Now that _they’re_ sorted, can we talk about us?  I mean, a lot’s happened in the past few minutes.  There was us singing filthy lyrics to each other.  And George giving us lube.”  Ever since his last year at Hogwarts, Neville was always one to get right to the point.  Bluntly.  

Draco ran a shaking hand through his hair.  “He gave _you_ lube.”

Neville’s brow furrowed.  “Because he predicted that _we_ might want to use it.  Did he get it wrong?  Did _I_ get it wrong?  I thought perhaps you’ve been flirting with me for a couple of years now, but I was never sure until you sang your little song.  Or were you just having a bit of fun at my expense?”

Draco huffed and shook his head.  Looking around, he realised he didn’t want to do this here.  He stepped up to Neville and grasped his arm, apparating them back to his flat.  He dropped Neville’s arm quickly.  “I hope you don’t mind.  I figured a joke shop wasn’t the best place for this discussion.”  He heard a squeaking and saw the pygmy puff blinking at him from his armchair.  George must have transported it here.  

Neville looked around.  “Nice place.  It _is_ quiet, though.  And you could use some plants.”

“I’m not very good with them.  I had thought of getting a cat, though maybe not now I’ve got that stupid thing.  Can’t imagine they’d coexist.”

“It would be fine.  Pygmy puffs were bred to give off some sort of odour that’s repellant to predators.”

Draco snorted.  He started laughing, and he wasn’t sure why.  “Maybe I give off the same odor.  That would explain why nobody seems to want to chase me.”  His smile faltered.  He hadn’t meant to reveal that bit of vulnerability.  

Neville tilted his head and came forward.  “So it’s true, then?  You haven’t dated anyone since before the war?”  Draco paused, and then shook his head.  “I’ve heard people talk.  They comment on how attractive you are, and that you’re very pleasant to be around.  But no one wants to get close to you and see the mark.”  

Draco looked away.  “I don’t blame them, of course.  I can barely stand to look at it myself.  It’s a very triggering reminder of a horrible time.”

Neville stepped even closer and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder.  Draco shivered slightly as the hand meandered down his arm until it was encircling his wrist.  Neville tugged his arm until it was outstretched between them.  Draco stiffened, knowing what he was about to do, but not pulling away.  Neville reached with his other hand to the cuff of Draco’s grey cashmere jumper, and pushed up the sleeve.  

The soft material slid effortlessly up Draco’s forearm, gliding against his skin, and the warm brush of Neville’s hand made the tiny hairs of his arm stand on end.  Neville stared down at the mark, his hand cradling Draco’s elbow.  His lips were pressed very tightly together.  The hand that had been cupping Draco’s elbow moved, and his fingers began stroking down the length of the mark.

Draco inhaled sharply and grabbed Neville’s hand, pulling it away.  “I have my own triggers, Neville.  Literally.”  His eyes flicked to the mark, unable to quell the illogical feeling that it had moved slightly.  Likely just a twitch from the muscle of his arm.  

“He’s not coming back, Draco.  I know that for a fact. So touching the mark doesn’t scare me.”

Draco whispered, “It scares _me_.”

Neville let go of his wrist and lifted his hand to curl around the back of Draco’s neck.  He squeezed slightly, and Draco closed his eyes.  He shuddered when he felt Neville’s breath on his ear as he whispered, “The point I’m trying to make, Draco, is that I find you attractive, and pleasant to be around, and the mark doesn’t bother me.”

Draco exhaled and felt his throat tighten a little.  He opened his eyes, and Neville was _right there_ , gazing down at him.  “If that’s true, then why haven’t you ever asked me out?”

Neville smiled ruefully.  “Contrary to popular belief since the war, I’m not _always_ brave.”

Draco wasn’t brave, either.  Never had been.  But no Slytherin worth the house name ever let an opportunity get away.  He curved his arms around Neville’s neck, pulling him down until their lips met.  Neville moved his own arms around Draco, gathering him in close until they were flush against each other, his mouth softly devouring Draco’s lower lip.  Draco felt dizzy as adrenaline pumped through his body, hardly able to believe this was finally happening.  

They eventually broke apart to catch their breaths.  Neville frowned slightly.  “Hang on, if you haven’t dated anyone since the war, how do you know you’re a bottom?”

Draco rolled his eyes.  “I haven’t been with any _wizards_ , but I do meet a lot of muggles in my job.  They all think it’s a tattoo I got in some sort of goth phase.”  He shook his head sadly.  “But I don’t date them, either.  I don’t need the drama of introducing one of them to our world.  So I get regular sex, but no companionship.”

Neville nuzzled his neck.  “I’d like to offer you both, if you’re amenable.”

Draco had a sudden idea.  He gave Neville a quick, hard kiss and then pulled away, holding up a finger.  He went over to the storage closet and retrieved his guitar.  Neville raised his eyebrows.  “Confiscated it from a muggle who didn’t realise it was charmed to make the singer sound like Elvis Presley.  He thought he was being inhabited by Elvis’s ghost.”  He smirked.  “The charm’s been lifted, by the way.”  He started strumming the guitar.

“Neville, sweet Neville, it means so much to me

That you are willing to give me a chance.

Neville, sweet Neville, would you like some dinner?

And then afterward I can see what’s in your pants.”

Neville burst out laughing, and then walked over to Draco as he was setting down his guitar and pulled him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to check out my tumblr: dreville.tumblr.com. I blog about Draco, Neville, and of course dreville.


End file.
